


Don't Mess With Time (JohnLock AU)

by Sini333



Category: Sherlock (TV), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fate, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Sherlock is an ass, Time - Freeform, john is a med student
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 15:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sini333/pseuds/Sini333
Summary: John Watson, a med student at Saint Bartholomew's Hospital, and his two friends, Greg Lestrade and Molly Hooper, get drunk one night and decide to try summoning Father Time. They wind up with a snarky, bitter, highly intelligent young man named Sherlock that just happens to be the entity of Father Time himself.What happens when they accidentally bind Sherlock to them? What happens when John falls in love with this strange man?





	1. The Ritual

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot, but I couldn't bring myself to compress it, so it became it's own book lol. Hope you enjoy it!!!!! Enjoy <3

“Are you sure this is a good idea Greg?” John gestured and the collection of objects the group had managed to collect. There were various herbs and a large copper bowl with a very intimidating looking dagger. Resting in the bowl, was an intricate old pocket watch, glinting in the soft light.

“Dude, what is the worst that can happen?” Greg laughed and placed another beer in front of the med student.

“If you don’t think its going to work then why are we doing this?”

“I don’t know, for fun?” John chuckled, taking a swig of his beer as his friend took his place beside him. Molly made her way into the room, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. “Drinking for two tonight eh Molly?” Greg chided, causing the girl to blush.

“No, I just thought maybe one of you would want a glass.” She took her place between the pair and crossed her legs, pouring her wine and surveying the collection of objects before them. “So, how does this work?”

“Well, according to the book, we add the ingredients over the watch, we each cut our palms and let the blood drain over everything. Then we burn the whole thing while saying the words _Tempus Pater, non alligo me ad tuam voluntatem._ ”

“What does that mean?” John asked, picking up a bag of herbs and sniffing it, only a little disappointed that it wasn’t weed.

“I don’t know, something about Father Time and binding his will or something.” Greg waved dismissively, wavering slightly from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. That was concerning.

“Binding the will of Father Time? What happens if it works?” Molly sounded slightly nervous, so John wrapped his arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze. There had never been anything between them other than friendship, but John always felt a little bad for the timid girl. She seemed to get her heart broken quite frequently, even though she was the sweetest thing John had ever met.

“Don’t be afraid Mouse, I’ll protect you.” He chuckled as she pushed him off, flipping him off and giggling.

“This isn’t going to work Mouse, there is no such thing as magic, or Father Time.” Greg laughed and reached for the items, opening a small, leather-bound book and reading off the measurements. As he prepared the spell, John glanced around the rundown house they had decided to use for their little ritual. It was falling apart and there was no power, but it seemed like the perfect setting. “Alright ladies, the spell is ready.” Greg picked up the dagger and held the blade against the skin, taking a deep breath before slicing his skin. He winced and held his bleeding hand over the bowl, letting the blood drip over the blend of herbs. The med student in John flinched, wanting to staunch the bleeding and check over the wound. He settled for handing his friend a clean cloth and deciding to check over all wounds afterwards. Molly went next, whimpering in pain as the blade cut her skin.

“Your turn Doc.” Greg said, handing John the dagger. John took it timidly, taking a steadying breath before quickly drawing the blade through his skin. It hurt more than he anticipated, and his hand was shaking as he held it over the bowl. Once he had given enough of his blood, he grabbed a clean cloth and wrapped his hand. This was starting to feel a little too real, making him question his motives. “Alright, now we say the spell, and light everything on fire.” Even Greg sounded tense now.

 _“Tempus Pater, non alligo me ad tuam voluntatem”_ They spoke together, it was choppy and probably horrendously butchered, but it was the best they could do. Then Greg dropped the match into the bowl.

At first, nothing happened, the herbs started to burn, and the room started to fill with an unpleasant scent.

“Well, that was-” John’s words were cut off by a flash of light and a giant puff of smoke filling the air between them.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”


	2. Time

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The new voice caused Molly to shriek, spilling her wine and latching on to John’s side. The smoke was starting to clear as John pried the terrified girl off his arm and stood, looking around trying to find where the voice had come from. “A binding ritual? Of all the rituals, you could have chosen you had to chose a binding one?” John found the man the voice belonged to, and felt his stomach hit the floor. The new man was propped against the doorframe, all limbs and curls. He was dressed in a black suit that fit him perfectly, and the pale light of the candles accentuated the harsh angles of his face, making him seem almost alien.

“Who are you? We aren’t trespassing, this is college property.” John straightened his shoulders and clenched his fists. The new man ran his eyes along John’s frame, taking in every inch of him with intrigued eyes. John licked his bottom lip and shifted on his feet.

“Who am I?” The new man asked, pushing off the doorframe and taking a casual step closer to John.

“Well if you don’t know, then you may need to revaluate your choices buddy.” John could hear Greg snigger behind him, the strangely beautiful man shooting a glare at John’s friend before turning his gaze back to the med student.

“I know perfectly well who I am. As do you, at least you should, you summoned me.”

“Wait, y-you’re- no.” John felt his knees weaken as realization struck him. The spell had worked. They had summoned Father Time.

“You know, I believe it isn’t a good thing when a human’s breathing pattern reaches that speed, I would suggest you try to slow your heartrate down before you pass out.” John shook his head, noticing that the new man was, in fact, correct about his breathing.

“I don’t understand.” Greg sounded confused, as he always did. Too many knocks to the head during rugby.

“Wow, your friend is intelligent, how ever do you keep up with such a brilliant mind?” The man dead-panned, causing John to let loose a belt of laughter.

“Hey! John, I thought you were on my side?”

“Sorry Greg, that was funny.”

“Yeah, Gavin. That was funny.”

“My name is Greg.”

“Isn’t that what I said?” John waved his hands in the air, trying to silence everyone. He turned to Molly, remembering that she had been pretty scared when the strange man arrived.

“Are you okay Mouse?” She nodded, not taking her eyes off the new man. John turned back to the new man, hoping to figure out what was going on. “So, let me get this straight, you are Father Time?”

“God, please don’t call me that. I hate that phrase. Such an antiquated title.”

 “Okay, then what do we call you?”

“You, can call me Sherlock.”

“Nice to meet you Sherlock.” Greg piped up again, sounding confused, but cheerful.

“I said John could call me Sherlock, Gerard, not you. You can call me Time.”

“That’s not my name-”

“Right, sorry Marvin.”

“Okay, that wasn’t even close.” John tried to hide a snort of laughter, failing miserably. He composed himself and caught the soft smile Sherlock sent him.

“Alright Sherlock, your Time, and we summoned you?”

“No John, you didn’t summon me, you used a binding ritual. Congratulations, you and your two pets now harness the very power of time.” John blanched, this was not good.

“W-what?”

“That’s right, you three numbskulls got drunk and decided to break the number one rule of dealing with Time.”

“What would that be?”

“You don’t fuck with Time!” Sherlock spun away, gripping his fingers in his curls and growling in frustration. He suddenly turned around and pointed at John, stepping closer with a dangerous smirk on his face. “Except for you, you can fuck with me all you want.” John flushed, his mouth opening and closing in shock. He had been hit on by men before, in clubs and whatnot, he had even snogged a guy in a bathroom stall one time, but no one as attractive as Sherlock. The tall man winked at him and lowered his finger. He turned his attention to Greg, looking vaguely annoyed at his presence. “You’re still here?”

“Oi!”

“Oh, shut up Jefferson.” John turned and placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder to calm him down.

“Go make sure Mouse is still breathing alright? And get the first aid kits, I have to clean and dress these cuts.” Greg grumbled and made his way over to Molly, who was still cowering in the corner.

“Wait, there are three of you?”

“You just called all three of us ‘numbskulls’ a minute ago,”

“Oh, right, I must have deleted that.” Sherlock winked at him again and slunk over to a chair that was collecting dust in the corner. He waved his hand and the chair suddenly changed, looking as though it was brand new. He dropped into the chair and stretched out, grinning smugly at John.

Who the hell was this guy?


	3. Timelines

“So, how does this whole ‘harnessing Time’ thing work? Is that pocket watch like a Time Turner or something?” Greg asked, pulling Sherlock’s attention from John. The taller man looked irritated at Greg’s questions.

“Who the fuck do you think I am, Hermione Granger?” Sherlock snapped, rolling his eyes and placing his fingers against his chin in a steeple. “That watch you used has nothing to do with me. It was just symbolic.” Greg looked lost, and John moved to check on his friend’s hands.

“So, how does it work?” He asked, throwing a glance back at Sherlock. The lanky man looked bored.

“I’m Time, John. I can see the timeline of absolutely everything in creation, and manipulate specific timelines to change or alter the course of something.”

“Can you do that with people?”

“Technically yes, but I refuse to do so. There are conditions to my powers.” John nodded, turning his attention back to Greg’s hand. He worked in silence for a while, just trying to focus on helping his friends. “Why did you cut yourselves? You only needed your blood, it would have been easier to just draw it ahead of time.” John froze, feeling a flash of frustration.

“What is the point of the knife then?”

“It’s an old spell, it was just for dramatic effect.” John laughed, finishing up with Greg’s hand and moving on to Molly.

“Come here Mouse, let me look at your hand.” She timidly offered her hand to John, her eyes never leaving Sherlock.

“Why does she keep staring at me like that?”

“She’s a little nervous.”

“Why are you nervous Miss Mouse?” John laughed, startling Sherlock and Molly.

“My name is Molly, not Mouse. That’s just what they call me.”

“I see. It is well suited.” John felt a flash of jealousy, followed by a flare of confusion. Why was he jealous of Sherlock talking to Molly? He only just met this man. John finished up with Molly’s hand and started packing up the First Aid kit.

“Who are you bound to?” Molly asked, causing everyone in the room to freeze. Sherlock leaned forward in his chair and smirked at the girl.

“An excellent question Miss Mouse.”

“I-I just assumed that you could only be bound to one person at a time.”

“You would be correct Miss Mouse.” John glanced around the room, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. “There is a way to tell, but it’s can be dangerous.”

“What happens when we find out?” Greg asked, John could hear the terror in his voice.

“Whoever I’m bound to, gets my soul. We can figure it out from there.” John nodded and stood, standing in front of the new man, bracing himself.

“Is there a way to undo the bond once we figure out who you are bound to?” He fought the tremor in his voice, his friends needed him to be strong right now. Sherlock stood, towering over him. Sherlock smirked, looking down at John in such a way that sent a flush over the shorter man.

“There is.”

“Good, let’s do this.”


	4. This is Time

“Good, let’s do this.” Sherlock grinned, stepping back and directing everyone to stand in front of him. Once they were all in place, John watched as Sherlock dug through the pockets of his suit jacket. He finally found what he had been looking for and pulled out a stunning pocket watch. “I thought the watch was symbolic?” John quipped, grinning at the scowl Sherlock sent him.

“That atrocity you used is symbolic. This one is important.” He snapped, holding the watch in one hand while hovering his other hand over it. “Now, I am going to slow time, only the person I have been bonded with will be able to move outside of time. When I reset time again, I will make sure the other two will be able to tell who it was.”

“That sounds confusing.” Greg said, scratching his head and looking at John uncertainly. Sherlock rolled his eyes and huffed, opening his mouth to speak. John just shook his head and waved at him to continue.

“I feel sorry for the future of Scotland Yard if people like you are what they have coming in.” Sherlock muttered, glaring at the watch in his hand. John was about to ask what he meant when the taller man waved his hand over the watch.

Everything shattered, colors fragmenting and splintering like thread being torn. John gasped, feeling his breath being pulled from his lungs as the room trembled, each strand of color vibrating like the strings on a guitar.

“John.” A rich voice cut through the thick air, causing the strings to shake around him. He turned, his vision taking a moment to catch up with the action. He saw the vague outlines of Greg and Molly, frozen where they had been standing. “John, look at me.” There was that voice again. He turned in the direction of the voice and felt his knees go weak. Sherlock was standing before him, looking crisp and clear amongst the distorted colors.

“Sherlock?” His voice sounded wrong, it waivered and shook, vibrating along with the strings. “W-what the f-”

“This is time John. This is what happens when I stop a moment.”

“I-it’s- it’s beautiful.” John wasn’t completely certain he was just talking about the array of colored strings that now made up his world. Sherlock seemed to glow with a faint, silver light.

“It is.” Sherlock stepped closer to john, causing the strings around him to shift and change, moving with his thin frame. John was entranced, watching the only clear thing within the chaos move. Sherlock stopped when he reached John, close enough that John could almost feel his warmth through his jumper. John felt his pulse quicken, his breath hitching in his throat as he watched the taller man reach for his wrist.

The touch felt weird, Sherlock’s icy fingers sending harsh jolts of electricity over John’s skin. He heard Sherlock gasp at the touch and knew he must have felt the same.

“I-I have t-to move y-you.” John felt breathless, his chest heaving as Sherlock started to pull him forwards. It was difficult walking, the air feeling heavy around him. He was dragged for a few feet before Sherlock stopped, hesitating for a moment before quickly gripping John’s shoulders and spinning him around. John felt a strange pressure against his back, but before he could question it Sherlock had captured his lips with his own in a bruising kiss. The contact sent electricity jolting through John’s shorter frame and he moaned against the other man’s lips. He fought to move his arms, finally managing to get his hands to Sherlock’s shoulders, tangling one of his hands in the dark curls and sliding the other down to rest on the thin waist. Sherlock moaned at the touch, pressing impossibly closer to John. They broke apart, breathing against each other’s lips heavily.

“I have to restart time John.”

“Why?” Sherlock chuckled, kissing John tenderly once more before backing away, taking out the watch from his pocket.

“We can’t live in a single moment John. Time would shatter.”

“It would be worth it if it meant I could kiss you again.” Sherlock flushed, seemingly flustered by the terrible line.

“You can kiss me whenever you please John. If you recall, I did say you can fuck with me whenever you please.” He winked before passing his hand over the watch, the world suddenly coming into harsh focus, pulling the air from John’s lungs once more. He felt a stabbing pain in his chest and dropped to his knees, fighting the darkness that threatened to claim him.

“John!” Sherlock’s concerned voice sounded years away as John felt his body connecting with the floor.


	5. Are You Sure?

Sherlock ran to John’s side, catching his head before it could hit the floor.

“What’s happening?” He heard Molly ask, she sounded as confused and scared as he was.

“I don’t know.” His hands were shaking as he tried to take John’s pulse. There was none to take. Panic set in, blurring his vison and causing his chest to tighten. He had to calm down, John needed him to be calm.

The air around John was filled with an unmistakable energy, Sherlock’s breath becoming visible as the temperature dropped.

“Now, now Brother Dear, I’m sure you can use that oversized brain of yours to figure it out.” A new voice cut through the air, sending fear and rage sparking through Sherlock. He looked up to see the tall frame of his older brother leaning on his infernal umbrella.

“No.” He whispered, turning his attention back to John, gently tapping his cheek in a vain attempt to wake him.

“He’s dead Sherlock. Well, he will be soon enough.” Sherlock could hear Molly and John’s other friend starting to panic as he fought the tears. He looked back up at his brother, this time noticing the pale form of John’s spirit hovering by the taller man.

“Let him go.” He growled, feeling the tears finally breaking free from his eyes.

“No.”

“Let him go!” Sherlock cried, lunging at his brother, pushing him off balance and forcing him against the wall. If anyone could free John from death it was Death himself.

“I will do no such thing Sherlock. This is for the best.”

“What are you saying?” Sherlock was thrown across the room, pain flowering in his back as he connected with the far wall. His body was pinned there, several feet above the ground as Mycroft stalked towards him. The older man looked furious, his face turning red and his body shaking.

“Don’t you remember the last time? I won’t allow that to happen to you again.”

“Please! John’s different! Please let him go!”

“Look at his timeline Sherlock! This man has an expiration date!”

“They all do!”

“Not as short as John’s!” Sherlock felt his heart break as he looked down at John. The strings of time were starting to fray around him. He only had another minute or so before time left his body entirely, at that point, even Death wouldn’t be able to restore him.

“Please Mycroft. Let me have what little time I can with him. He won’t hurt me. He isn’t Moriarty.”

“I am still trying to fight the bonds that man created through you.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but please don’t take John from me.”

“Are you sure about him Sherlock? Can you trust him with your soul?”

“I have never been more sure. Please.” Mycroft sighed, releasing Sherlock’s body from its place on the wall. He fell to the floor in a heap, his legs giving out when they touched the ground. He scrambled over to John, kneeling beside him and placing a hand on his chest.

“I will restore him, but if he hurts you in any way, I will not hesitate to take him. Do you understand Sherlock?”

“Yes, just please, hurry.” Mycroft nodded, touching the tip of his umbrella to John’s chest. Sherlock could feel the disturbance in the air as John’s spirit returned to his body. He felt for a pulse, relief filling him as he could feel the faintest. He looked up to thank his brother, but the man was gone. “Gavin, call an ambulance. Tell them John’s heart was stopped for three minutes but is working now.” John’s friend did as he was told, and Molly came to kneel beside Sherlock.

“Is he responding to any stimulus?” She asked, sounding more confident than Sherlock had imagined she could. He shook his head, pulling his hands away from John’s unconscious body to allow the timid girl to check him over.

“You are a med student as well?” He asked, studying her closely for the first time. She nodded, her skilled hands checking his pulse and vitals.

“I’m studying to be a forensic pathologist.” Sherlock was impressed, Molly seemed to know what she was doing. “What did he mean by John having an expiration date?” Sherlock felt a weight settle on his shoulders as he looked once more at John’s short timeline.

“Nothing important. Mycroft doesn’t believe in interacting with the humans, he says its dangerous.”

“How was he able to save him? John was dead, even I could see that.”

“Mycroft is Death, every body has a limit to how long it can function without a soul. The longest I have seen a body function with out a soul is five minutes. The longer it sits, the more strands of time fray around it. John was at the three-minute mark when Mycroft restored him. Once time separates from the body, it can’t be restored by anyone except Fate, and Fate never gives up her dead.” The sounds of sirens filled the air, pulling Sherlock from his thoughts. He looked worriedly at John, feeling fear grip his chest as he thought of the frailty of humans.

“He’s going to be fine. His body is responding to stimulus, and he is breathing on his own.” Molly assured him as they watched Geoff lead in the team of EMTs. She pulled Sherlock out of the way and chattered to the professionals as they surrounded John, trying desperately to help the young man.

Sherlock felt a tightness in his chest, he silently prayed they weren’t too late.


	6. Fate

Sherlock stayed by John’s side, refusing to leave the young man alone for even a moment. He spent his days sitting in the uncomfortable chair by his head, watching him sleeping. He checked the status of his timeline, making sure it wasn’t getting shorter than it already was. After a week, the doctors started talking about him never waking. Sherlock had thrown a fit then, nearly destroying the room. His heart was crumbling for the young man lying in the bed. Molly and Gavin visited frequently, even making the effort to try and get John’s parents down to see him. Sherlock sat silently in the corner as the boy’s family talked to his sleeping form. His father was abusive, that much was obvious, and he was clearly disturbed by Sherlock’s presence by John’s side.

“He’s going to wake up.” Molly would tell him, rubbing his back as he mourned over John’s body. Even Geoff would try to talk to him, chattering endlessly about school and such things. Sherlock was starting to like the young man, though he would never tell him. It was too fun to bug him.

One day, Mycroft even visited. It led to a fight of epic proportions, Sherlock threatening to kill his brother before Mycroft hit him with his infernal umbrella.

Then John’s timeline started to fray. It was subtle at first, but Sherlock noticed immediately. John’s body was dying, Fate was taking him and Sherlock couldn’t stop her.

“Please Mycroft!”

“Sherlock, there is nothing I can do. I can’t restore him if there is nothing to restore. His soul is non-responsive. It will go when time leaves his body.”

“Then let me talk to Fate.”

“No.”

“Please! I can’t lose him Mycroft.” He begged, not even bothering to hide the tears that fell from his eyes. Even though they were always at odds, Sherlock knew that his older brother could not resist an emotional Sherlock. The older man sighed, pulling himself to his full height and tapping his umbrella against the floor.

“I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Mycroft.”

 

It was another few days before she showed up. Sherlock felt the new surge of power and stood, turning to face the young woman that entered the room. She was pretty, petite and blond, but she carried herself with a confidence Sherlock had only seen in one person before. She made him uncomfortable, especially when she walked over to John, running her hand along his cheek.

“Fate?”

“Call me Mary. Why are you here Time? Surely you are aware that this young man belongs to me?” Sherlock tensed at her words, John belonged to him. He knew him first, kissed him first.

“Let him go.” Mary turned to Sherlock, her pale eyes filled with a somber amusement that sent a spark of fear along Sherlock’s spine.

“No.”

“Please, I know you don’t give up your dead, but-”

“But what? Don’t want to lose your little pet? Your brother told me what happened. You’re bound to him, and that is bringing up some unfortunate emotions.”

“Please, let him go.” Sherlock was begging, he wanted John back. He wanted her to leave him alone.

“Why should I, Time? What makes this one any different than Moriarty?” Sherlock felt a flash of frustration at her words. John wasn’t Moriarty, he would never hurt Sherlock or any other Entity.

“Please, John wouldn’t- I-I trust him.” She smiled softly at Sherlock, seeming to see just how much he was hurting. She stepped closer and placed a soft hand on Sherlock’s cheek.

“I will set him free-”

“Thank you!”

“-on one condition.” Sherlock felt dread pool in his stomach. “You have to break the bond.”

“I-I- w-we were going to, but his h-heart-” Sherlock’s words were cut off by his own sob.

“You were going to before you touched him outside of time.” Sherlock froze, he hadn’t thought of that. John had been touched outside of time, the bond was physical now. That’s why he was so upset about John not waking up. What was left of his heart shattered, he dropped to his knees, the weight of the bond heavy on his shoulders. “Break the bond with John, and I will give him his life back.”

Sherlock nodded, he had to save John. When the bond was broken, John wouldn’t be able to see him, or even remember him. He would have to physically remove the bond from John’s soul, that would distort his memories. He stood and took John’s hand, pulling out his pocket watch.

_“Et conteram in vobis vinculum et liberabo animam meam.”_ He whispered, feeling the distortion in time as he pulled the bond away from John. Every fibre of his being burned as the bond was broken, sending shocks of pain along his spine.

The pain stopped and he was left with an emptiness in his soul.

“It’s done.” His voice broke and he sat in the nearest chair, breathing heavily. He heard a shuffling and looked up to see Mary standing next to John, her hand on his face. Sherlock watched as the strings of time mended themselves around John. His timeline was still short, and tainted with the colors of Fate, but it was whole again. “Is he free?”

“No.” Sherlock felt a burning pain in his stomach.

“You promised!”

“Haven’t you heard Time? Fate’s a cruel bitch. John Watson belongs to me, and that will not change.” With that, she was gone. Sherlock felt his chest tightening as he realized what had just happened. He had lost John to Fate.

The machines started to beep loudly and doctors and nurses filled the room. John’s heart had stopped again. Sherlock watched as the people fought to restart John’s heart. He could feel his own chest tightening as the minutes passed.

“He’s gone. Call it.” Sherlock sobbed violently. John was dead, taken by Fate.

“Sherlock.” He heard Mycroft’s voice behind him, he shook his head, this couldn’t be happening. “He’s gone Sherlock.” He spun around and threw himself against his brother, knocking him against the wall and pinning him there.

“Get him back!”

“You know I can’t do that Sherlock! I didn’t take him. Fate did.”

“Make her give him back!”

“No one controls Fate Sherlock!” Sherlock sobbed and crumbled against the firm chest of his older brother. He was pulled from his grief by the sound of a strangled breath being drawn in behind him.

He turned to see the deep blue eyes of John Watson staring at him from the hospital bed.

“Sherlock?”


	7. Re-Bound

“Sherlock?”

“John?” Sherlock stepped closer to the young man, trying to fight the hope that was welling in his chest. There was no way John should be able to see him, the bond was broken. The closer he got to John, the darker the dread in his chest became. John couldn’t see him. He was staring through Sherlock and out the door. He straightened his shoulders and took a shuddering breath. John Watson was safe, that was all that mattered.

“Goodbye John.” He allowed himself to fade away, leaving before his heart stopped.

It was the most painful thing he ever had to do.

 

 

It was years before Sherlock saw John again. He had been helping his brother break a bond that Moriarty had managed to form when he was suddenly pulled, almost violently, away. He found himself in an abandoned flat, the burning pain in his chest giving away what was happening. It was another Binding Spell.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“So, do you always greet people like that or is it just me?” A vaguely familiar voice cut through the pain that was clouding his mind. He knew that voice. It was older, rougher, but unmistakable. He spun around, taking in the image before him.

The man that stood before him was different than he remembered, yet somehow the same. He stood with a quiet, reserved nature that screamed military. He was just barely propping himself up on a cane, indicating a psychosomatic limp. His hair was trimmed to a longer version of military standard and there was the courage of a soldier hidden behind the pain in his dark blue irises.

“Well, you are the only idiot that has tried to bind me in the last thousand years. I guess that means it’s just you.” He found himself fighting back hope for the second time.

“That’s not true. Despite popular belief, Greg and Molly helped me last time.”

“That’s correct. How is Markus?” The man before him laughed, a soft, sad sound that broke Sherlock’s heart.

“So, looks like I have managed to bind the great Father Time.”

“God, please don’t call me that. It’s such an antiquated title.”

“What do I call you then?”

“You, can call me Sherlock.”

“Well Sherlock, I don’t think we were properly introduced last time. My name is John Watson.” The shorter man stepped forward, reaching out his hand. Sherlock hesitated before reaching out his own. As their skin touched, electricity sparked between them, causing them both to pull their hands apart. “What the fuck was that?” Sherlock felt a jolt of fear lance through him.

“Fate.”

“That’s a pretty cheesy line.”

“What? No, its not a line John.”

“I warned you Time.” The overly-sweet voice of Fate cut through the air. Sherlock spun, placing himself between John and the Entity. She stood in the far corner of the room, watching the two men as though bored. Sherlock pulled out his pocket watch, there could be a fight and he needed to keep John safe.

“Let him go.”

“I already told you, you can’t have him Time. John Watson belongs to me.”

“I belong to no one.” John growled, stepping out from behind Sherlock, drawing a gun and pointing it at Fate. Sherlock felt a pang of amusement and fear.

“Oh, look at that Time, you found yourself quite the brave little soldier. That gun will do you no good Dear.” John held his ground, not even trembling. Fate was right, he was brave.

“What do you want Fate?” Sherlock had a strange feeling he already knew.

“Oh, I don’t want anything. I’m just here for the human.” Sherlock felt his stomach tighten. He felt something connect with his side, his body getting thrown across the room where it connected violently with the wall. Someone was screaming, but Sherlock couldn’t focus. His head had struck the wall, leaving him dizzy and in pain. As the fog cleared, Sherlock became aware of the screaming again. He looked back to see chaos where he had once stood.

Fate was lying on the ground writhing in pain as she clutched her chest. The air was crackling with a red energy and Sherlock could feel a dreadfully familiar presence. John still stood where Sherlock had been thrown from, his gun now aimed at a different corner of the room. Sherlock glanced back at Fate and noticed the wound in her chest. That wasn’t right, John’s gun shouldn’t have done more than knock her back slightly.

“John?”

“Yeah, guess I should have mentioned that. I’m a damned good shot.” Sherlock felt a spark at the roughness of John’s tone. He could get used to hearing his voice like that.

“Hello!” a familiar, sing-song voice broke through Sherlock’s thoughts, sending panic lancing through his chest.

“Moriarty.” Sherlock forced himself to his feet, finally catching sight of his old nemesis. Moriarty was propped against the doorway, picking at his fingernails with an evil smirk on his face.

“Hello Sherlock! It’s been too long! You’ve been causing some trouble, haven’t you? Normally I am all for chaos, but Daddy’s had enough now.” His voice was grating, and Sherlock felt the familiar sense of panic at his words. This man had nearly killed Sherlock once, and had been trying to take the Entities ever since.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” John did not sound impressed. Moriarty glanced vaguely at the soldier before smirking back at Sherlock.

“I should get a pet, they seem rather amusing.”

“What do you want Moriarty?”

“You!” Moriarty shouted, a blast of power flying from him, knocking Sherlock and John back. “Why won’t you just accept that? It’s always going to be like this! You and me!” Moriarty was screaming now, stalking closer to Sherlock and drawing an intricate handgun from his jacket. Sherlock remembered that dagger, he remembered how painful it was when it tore through the skin and muscle the last time he had been shot with it. It was the only gun that could kill him.

Everything froze as the sound of gunfire cut through the air.


	8. Time and His Doctor

“Sherlock!” John watched as the taller man hit the ground. Moriarty was practically screaming with laughter as Sherlock writhed on the ground. John clambered to his feet, grabbing his gun and running to Sherlock. His medical training tried to kick in, but he pushed that aside and he grabbed the duffel back he had dropped in the corner when he had first arrived.   
“Oh, look at that Sherlock, your little pet thinks he can save you! He’s dead Dr. Watson, or he will be very soon.” John ignored the lilting voice of Moriarty as he started pulling items from his duffle bag.

“Hang in there Sherlock.”

“J-John-”

“No, no don’t speak. The bullet might have punctured your lung.” He grabbed his Summoning Bowl and Ritual Dagger before pulling out an ancient book, made of leather and parchment. He had found the book years ago, and had spent many years translating it.

“Tick Tock, goes the clock-”

“I swear, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will kill you myself!”

“You can’t kill me Dr. Watson.” Moriarty giggled, sending a chill along John’s spine. John pulled his gun out of it’s place in his belt and waved it in Moriarty’s direction.

“I killed Fate, didn’t I?” He snapped, setting the gun by the Summoning Bowl and flipping through the book. He found what he was looking for and started rifling through his duffle bag. He pulled out an old pocket watch and various herbs and ingredients, emptying them into the Bowl as he found them.

“What do you think will happen when Time dies? How do you-” John cut Moriarty’s words short with a bullet to the brain.

“I warned him.” He muttered as he returned to his work. Killing didn’t bother him anymore, not after the war. He finished mixing the ingredients and grabbed the dagger, pulling the sharp blade across his palm and letting the blood flow. He glanced at Sherlock, quickly taking stock of the man lying on the ground. His wound was bleeding fiercely, and his body was starting to convulse due to pain and blood loss.

He quickly wrapped his hand and uttered the spell, lighting a match and dropping it in, watching as the herbs started to burn. There was a flash of light and puff of smoke and Sherlock cried out.

“Hang on Sherlock.” John reached into the bowl and pulled out a handful of ashes, packing them into the wound on Sherlock’s chest. He fought to hold the man down as he writhed and screamed in pain. John watched as the bullet slid out of his chest and rolled to the ground. He packed more ashes into the wound and sat back, praying that would be enough.

 

 

When Sherlock came to a few hours later, John had managed to clean up most of the blood and disposed of the bodies of Fate and Moriarty. He was watching as Sherlock started to stir and was by his side as soon as his eyes opened. He checked Sherlock over as he waited for the man to get his bearings.

“J-John?”

“Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“I-I don’t- How?”

“I’ll explain in a minute, just answer the question.”

“Bruised.” John chuckled, pressing his fingers against the healed skin where there used to be a gaping, bleeding hole.

“Well, everything feels fine to me. You can breathe okay?” Sherlock nodded, pushing himself to his elbows. John helped him sit and handed him a bottle of water, instructing him to sip it slowly. John finished packing everything away as Sherlock watched, fighting the discomfort that came from being studied.

“How did you kill them?” Sherlock’s voice sounded clear, if not thoroughly confused.

“I found an old spell book that gave me a spell that can kill anything.”

“But you shot them.”

“I figured it would work if I put the ingredients into a bullet. The spark from the firing pin ignites the spell, by the time it reaches its destination the spell is activated.” John felt a blush creeping over his cheeks as Sherlock listened to him.

“That is brilliant.” John couldn’t contain the grin that pulled at his lips. He never got called brilliant. Crazy, yes, but never brilliant. “Who were they?”

“She was Fate and his name was Moriarty.”

“Yeah, I figured that much out. Why were they after you?”

“Fate wasn’t after me. She was after you. She wanted your timeline.”

“I see, I thought you ran the timelines?”

“Normally yes, but if Fate decides she wants someone, she can take them from me.”

“Why did she want me?”

“I have no idea.” John nodded, processing the new information.

“Who was Moriarty.”

“A mistake on my part. A long time ago, he tried to bind himself to me in hopes of using my powers to his advantage. It didn’t work and he has been chasing me and the other Entities ever since. I trusted him and he nearly killed me.” John was quiet for a time, trying to control the anger that was bubbling to the surface at the thought of someone hurting Sherlock.

“Why did you leave me?” He asked, his voice wavering as he remembered the hurt and pain he had felt when Sherlock hadn’t been there when he woke up.

“I had to. Fate was killing you and the only way she would let you live was if I left. You weren’t supposed to remember me.”

“Well I did. People thought I was crazy, talking about this mysterious ‘Sherlock’ and whatnot. Even Greg and Mouse thought I had lost it. Hell, I thought I had lost it for the longest time. Until I was shot. Then I met this really unpleasant man that started talking about how it figured that he would be the one to go claim the soul of the man that hurt his brother so much.”

“Mycroft?”

“Yeah, when he started talking about you, I recognized him. I saw him when I died that last time, and I saw him when I died then.”

“You died?”

“Yep. The doctors said I was gone for a solid seven minutes this time. Mycroft said that time and fate had fully removed themselves from my body when he put me back in.”

“So- I-I don’t-”

“You’re welcome Brother dear.” A new voice came from behind John and he spun, grabbing his gun and preparing to defend Sherlock. Mycroft stood in the doorway, looking horrendously unimpressed. John lowered his gun and scowled at the older man.

“I could have killed you.”

“I’m Death Dr. Watson, even your fancy little toy can’t kill me.” John heard a scuffling and turned to face Sherlock, watching as he stood, straightening his shirt and dusting himself off.

“What did you do, Mycroft?”

“Your little friend had an expiration date, so I let him expire.”

“You tricked the Entities.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I got sick of your moping. You have no idea how irritating it is to have to listen to you whine about John Watson for years on end.” John blushed when Sherlock looked down at him, both men suddenly becoming aware of their positions. John was kneeling in front of Sherlock, looking up at him. He quickly scrambled to his feet, his cheeks darkening as he realized just how close he was to the taller man.

“I wasn’t moping.”

“Yes, you were Sherlock. Now, you two can enjoy each other’s company for however long you like. Just try to avoid touching him when you are outside of time. He won’t survive another time.”

“I-I don’t understand.” It was John’s turn to be confused, looking rapidly between the two men.

“John Watson is no longer influenced by time or fate. You have no timeline Dr. Watson, feel free to exist with Sherlock until you get bored of him or vice versa.” With that, Mycroft was gone, leaving John and Sherlock alone once more.

“It appears I owe my brother a debt of gratitude.”

“Same here, think he’d appreciate a fruit basket?” Sherlock laughed, a deep, full-bodied laugh that filled John with joy. When they had finally settled down, the room was filled with a comfortable silence as they looked at each other.

“You’ve aged well.” Sherlock whispered, stepping closer to John and brushing his fingers along the shorter man’s cheekbones.

“You look the same.” John could feel his body start to tremble as Sherlock’s fingers found his chin and pulled his face up to meet his.

It had been many years since they had last kissed, but it felt as though nothing had changed. This kiss was softer than their first, but it was equally as dizzying. When they broke the kiss, they were both breathless. John rested his head against Sherlock’s chest and giggled, feeling the taller man laugh along with him.

“I have waited almost ten years for that.” He mumbled, resting his hands on Sherlock’s hips and pulling him close.

“Was it worth the wait?”

“Oh, god yes.” John leaned up and kissed Sherlock again, this one deep and desperate. Sherlock moaned softly against John’s lips and responded enthusiastically.

They had spent for too many years waiting for each other. Now, they had all of time to be together.

Time and his Doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it kids! The final chapter!! I hope you liked it!!! feel free to comment and tell me what you think!! Thanks for reading!!


End file.
